by Lina Langley
***
Sean watched Logan as closely as he could. He was only making scrambled eggs and toast, but Sean wasn’t willing to take his gaze off him. He didn’t want Logan to put anything in the food.
Logan could have easily told him to fuck off, but he seemed to find Sean’s paranoia funny, almost endearing. Sean wanted to tell him that this wasn’t okay, that this wasn’t just an ordinary breakfast, and that he wanted to leave, but he said nothing.
He watched Logan cook and, by the end of it, the kitchen smelled like ginger and salt and Sean’s stomach was grumbling.
“You’re hungry,” he said. “Just eat.”
He served the food under Sean’s watchful eye, placing it in front of him at the breakfast counter. The only light in the kitchen was the one from atop the stove, but Logan walked over to the end of the kitchen and turned a light on.
Sean took the opportunity to swap their plates. He figured he couldn’t be too careful.
Logan walked back toward him with a smile on his face. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I don’t like eating in the dark.”
“It’s fine,” Sean said. “Thank you for food.”
“You’re welcome,” Logan replied, sitting down next to him and patting his knee.
Sean forced his leg not to move, but his limbs were trembling. He was trembling. He approached the food with trepidation, but he was still going to eat. It was the polite thing to do.
He put the food in his mouth. It was warm and salty, and exactly what Sean needed. He didn’t want to devour the food, because he wanted to extend this for as long as he could.
“Logan,” he said, his voice a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me whatever you want,” Logan said. “I might just not answer.”
“Why am I here?”
Logan cocked his head. “You mean, you really don’t know?”
“I really don’t know,” Sean echoed.
Logan edged closer to him. His hand had simply patted Sean’s knee before, but it had now settled on Sean’s body, and Sean could feel how heavy it was as it held him down. “You wanted to be here,” Logan said.
Sean blinked. “What do you mean?”
Logan tutted, shaking his head. “Do you remember last summer?”
“Vaguely?” Sean said. He could remember some things about the summer. He could remember the way he felt like he was always floating, how his vision was tinted with glitter and smoke.
Logan grinned. “We had so much fun together, didn’t we?”
Sean swallowed. He remembered having fun. He just wasn’t fully cognizant of who his company had been at the time. It could have been Logan. The man was in and out of his life all the time, ever since he was a teenager.
He couldn’t get rid of him. And, up until a few weeks ago, he didn’t want to.
Casual was just fine. Until it wasn’t.
Until he had really gotten to know Special Agent Rocky Knight.
“Look,” Logan said, cocking his head. “You told me about this.”
“I did?”
“You did,” Logan replied, then used a finger to turn Sean’s face around. Sean found himself staring at Logan, trying his best not to jerk his head away. “You said that you freaked out when it came to seeing people too often.”
That did sound like Sean, but he couldn’t remember telling Logan that. He couldn’t remember telling anyone that. Sean closed his eyes. “I don’t—when?”“When? What do you mean when?”
“When did I say that?”
“When we were together,” Logan said. “You don’t remember?”
Sean tightened his jaw and looked away from Logan. He stared at the hood and the dim yellow light. “I hardly remember a thing.”
“You party too hard,” Logan said, cracking a smile.
Sean swallowed. “Things have changed for me, Logan,” he said, as gently as he could.
Logan rolled his eyes. “I knew that’s what you’d say,” he replied. “But look. I’m moving soon, and you knew I was moving soon. We’re going to have our last hurrah, right? Together. Just like we talked about.”
Sean looked him up. His head was swimming. He was trying his best not to do anything that would get him into more trouble, but it was hard to imagine what he could say to piss Logan off.
He also tried his best to remember what he had told Logan, but it seemed so far-off, like he hadn’t been the person to say those things. The worst part of it all was that it did sound like him.
He could remember saying things like that to other lovers, to other people, but he had never thought that it would come back and bite him in the ass. He had never thought about what would happen if it came back to bite him in the ass.
During the summer, he had done the best to forget his past. Knight was part of his past, but he wasn’t woven into all his flaws, into all his mistakes, not like Logan was.
“Why the… start of it, though?” Sean managed to ask.
“Well, I figured you’d need a little incentive,” Logan said, looking him up and down. “I know you’re the president’s son and everything, but you’ve always liked a party.”
Sean felt the blood drain from his face as Logan began to get closer to him.
“And you and me? We’re about to have the best party ever.”
CHAPTER SIX
Knight was returning to the room, a Snickers chocolate bar in his hand. He was holding it so tightly he was sure he was crushing it. No one had taken it, and Knight had seen enough of these chocolates in Sean’s hands to know they were his favorite.
But finding out that Sean hadn’t gotten to have his favorite snack wasn’t helping at all with his peace of mind. He put it in his pocket as he entered the room.
The door was ajar, which he was grateful for.
Don was sitting at the desk, but he wasn’t clicking through things anymore. His face had paled and he looked like he was going to throw up.
“Kid?”
Don turned his head to look at him. “Roch…”
Rocky practically sprinted toward his brother. He towered over him, caring only for a second about how scary he must have looked. “Tell me,” he said. “What happened?”
“I went into his message request folder, like you told me to,” Don said. “He’d block messages from Logan, so they were all in there.”
“Who is Logan?”
“Logan Tattleborough,” Don said in a thin voice. “Some guy Sean used to go out with. He was always—”
Knight waved Don off. He remembered Logan. He was the only guy who Sean sort of mentioned more than once.
Knight remembered meeting him. He was the same age as Sean, but a lot quieter. On paper, there was nothing wrong with him. The kid came from privilege, same as Sean, and he was set for a bright future.
But there was a glint in his eye.
One that Knight wasn’t sure about.
He had always done right by following his instinct, but he hadn’t cared too much when Sean had just been an annoying teenage boy. Of course he had to learn that hanging out with annoying people got old after a while and Knight didn’t particularly feel like intervening.
Now that it would have been his place.
He had only felt a little bad about it when he had seen Sean sullen, practically crying, after a bad day at school, but in general, he tried to steer away from teenage affairs.
And, until then, he’d had no reason to think about Sean’s prior lovers.
Knight had been there when Sean was growing up. He knew that he’d had plenty of experience. He had never felt jealous about it before, not until that very second, not until he realized that one of those ex-lovers was probably what had put Sean in danger.
“What did it say?” Knight said.
“Just that he should stop avoiding him,” Don replied. “That Sean knew they had plans.”
“Did he mention the plans?”
“He said something about how they were going to get away,” Don said, his
breath caught. He sounded like a scared little boy, but Knight didn’t have time to console him then. He knew that if he reached out, if he even put his hand reassuringly on Don’s shoulder, then he might be the one that broke down into tears.
And he couldn’t have that. He couldn’t lose control until Sean was back in his arms.
Until he was safe.
Knight sat on the edge of the bed, his legs apart, his elbows on his knees and his gaze right on Don’s face. Don watched him.
“Don,” Knight said. “I need you to tell me everything you know about Logan Tattleborough.”
***
Knight was pacing around the room, his phone pressed up against his ear. The phone rang and rang.
He knew it was late—or maybe it was early—but he needed help. He wasn’t going to be able to solve this alone. He didn’t want to start any protocols, not yet, but he might not have a choice, depending on how this phone call went.
It could go terribly.
“Hello?” a gruff, tired voice replied.
“Tonya?”
She cleared her throat. “Knight? Is that you?”
“I need your help,” he said and his voice caught.
She seemed to think about that for a minute. “What is it?”
“There is someone I need you to look into,” he said. “Can you please send me any addresses they might be connected to?”
“What is this for?”
Knight rubbed the bridge of his nose. He sat down on the edge of the bed and tapped his foot on the carpeted floor. “It’s Sean Connor.”
She laughed, but she quieted down immediately when she realized he wasn’t laughing along with her. “Wait,” she said. “The president’s son?”
“Yes,” he replied. “He’s missing, and I think someone has him.”
He could practically hear the wheels spinning in Tonya’s head. “Okay,” she said. “Send me the information. I’ll help you.”
It only took her about twenty minutes to send him the information. It was a long email, with at least ten different addresses. Knight looked through them, trying to find the closest address to where they were.
It made sense that Tattleborough would have taken Sean somewhere nearby. The four international addresses were out, because Sean wouldn’t have been able to travel without his passport. He wasn’t sure if the kidnapper was stupid enough to have closed state lines, so the best bet was going for the house that was only a couple of hours away.
Depending on how that went, Knight knew he would have to announce what had happened to the rest of the Secret Service. He didn’t know how he was going deal with that, but he didn’t want to think about that, because if he didn’t get to take Sean out of that situation, he didn’t know how safe Sean would be.
And that was far scarier than the prospect of committing treason, which he was sure some deft lawyer could get a court to agree to. The thought made him feel a little sick to his stomach.
“Don,” he said. “I’m going to go.”
“Wait,” Don said, looking up at him. “You’re not going to leave me here, are you?”
Knight opened his mouth. “I can’t be worried about you too when I’m—”
“I’ll stay in the car,” Don said.
“Don—”
“You can’t leave me here,” he said. “I need to know that he’s okay. I promise I’ll stay out of your way.”
Knight looked away from him, focusing his gaze on the landscape painting next to the ironing board. “If I lose you too…”
“You won’t,” Don said, sounding indignant. “I’m an adult, Roch, and I can help. You can’t leave me here.”
Knight swallowed. He had already broken so much with protocol, he supposed it didn’t make that much of a difference if Don came with him. He had also been instrumental in providing the best clue they might have had altogether.
He couldn’t exactly turn Don away. He understood the link Don had with Sean, and not being around Sean was tearing Knight apart. Don was Sean’s best friend. He could see how worried and bewildered he was, and Knight knew that part of it was his responsibility. No, not part of it, all of it. Sean Connor was his charge and he had lost him, because he had been so concerned with fucking him.
“I’m driving,” Knight said, his voice thin.
There was a second when Don processed it, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, then he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Just give me a second.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sean finished eating his food as slowly as he could. When he was done, it was already cold. He was looking down at his plate, wondering if he was going to be able to keep this down. Logan had finished his food a while ago and he was staring at Sean, a smile on his face.
He looked smug, and Sean wanted to punch him in the face. His knee was moving up and down. It wasn’t in his control, and he was scared. He kept trying to tell himself to calm down, but the way Logan was looking at him, it was making him feel like things were about to explode.
There was no way for him to stop Logan. Logan was in control, entirely in control, and there was no way for Sean to get out of it. The only thing he could do was try and stay alive, but that seemed like a huge challenge, all things considered.
“Now that you’re done with breakfast,” Logan said. “Let’s make sure to give you something to drink.”
Sean’s eyes widened. “It’s a little early for a drink.”
Logan laughed, throwing his head back. “Guess the last year made you boring, huh?”
Sean swallowed, then tried to flash him a smile. It was thin, but it was something. “I, uh, yeah,” he said. “Super boring. You’re going to have to give me a little time to catch up again.”
“That’s why we need to get started with the drinking,” Logan said, wiggling his eyebrows. “And these aren’t the watered-down mimosas you get at those bougie restaurants.”
Sean couldn’t wrap his head around how Logan was acting, as if they had gone out to brunch on a Saturday. Sean was sure it was very early and he didn’t think that Logan had slept. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark bags under them.
“I can get the mimosas,” Sean said, as he got off the stool. “Are they in the fridge?”
Logan laughed, then grabbed Sean’s hand and wrapped his fingers around Sean’s own. Sean looked down at his hand, at his arm, at the way their hands looked when they were interlaced. “No,” he said. “No, no, I have a mini-fridge in my bedroom, with many other treats.”
Sean stayed put. He didn’t want to move. Even as Logan began to pull him, he could barely make his body move. Logan turned around and laughed at him. “Cute,” he said. “I see you already started to play.”
Sean shook his head. “No, I don’t—I’m not playing,” he replied, a knot forming in his throat. He had no idea what Logan meant by that, but it had made a chill run down his spine.
“Then what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Sean said. “I think I do need that mimosa.”
“I told you,” Logan said.
He was still holding onto Sean’s hand tightly and Sean didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about it all. He felt disconnected from everything, as if he was watching what was happening from outside his body, as Logan began to climb the stairs.
Sean could smell garlic still wafting from the kitchen. He could also smell Logan’s cologne—or maybe it was deodorant. He couldn’t tell. It smelled lemony and a little chemical at the same time. Sean wondered if that was what was giving him a headache, though, of course, everything felt like it was giving him a headache.
When they were in the hallway, Logan stopped for a second. He turned around to look at Sean and smiled at him. “Have I told you that I’m glad you’re here yet?”
Sean stared at him. It felt like he couldn’t remember any conversation he’d had, and certainly any conversation he’d had with Logan Tattleborough himself. He felt like he was about to faint when Logan let go of him. He didn’t want L
ogan to touch him, but it also felt like the only anchor he had to the real world.
Logan walked over to his minifridge and opened it. Sean considered, for a second, shoving him into it. But even if he had wanted to, he didn’t know if there would be a way out.
He could maybe run and hide. Maybe. He turned around to look at the door, and they moment he did that, he felt Logan’s hand around the back of his throat.
He shoved a mimosa into his hand. Sean wondered when or where he’d gotten champagne flutes from. He took a second to grab the champagne glass from Logan’s hand. He brought it up to his face and considered whether he should take it.
He probably should, he thought. A little alcohol would go a long way toward making things more bearable. He tipped it into his mouth, drinking it all at once, caring little at how carbonated it was and how his throat didn’t like it.
The nausea was bad and it wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t see why he’d have to make an effort.
He regretted it immediately. The drink went right to his head and he immediately felt lightheaded and like he wanted to throw up. He took a few steps back and then sat on the edge of the bed, immediately feeling like he was going to empty the contents of his stomach on his shoes. He was holding onto the quilt under him so tightly that his fingers were actually hurting.
Logan laughed and walked over to sit down next to him. “Do you want a refill?”
“No,” Sean said. “No.”
Logan shook his head. He looked faraway, even though he was right there. Sean could see his face through curtains of light. He couldn’t focus on him.
“Oh, Sean,” Logan said, putting his hand on Sean’s face. Sean closed his eyes. “I knew you were going to come around.”
Sean tried to open his mouth to tell him that he wasn’t, that he hadn’t, but it was too hard. It was too hard to move. It was too hard to do anything.
“Do you remember our plan?”
Sean opened his eyes. He tried to will himself to shake his head, but nothing happened. He didn’t manage to move at all. Logan grabbed him by the shoulders and maneuvered his body so that Sean was on his side on the bed.
